


Hearts On Snow

by BoredomIsDeadly



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Developing Relationship, Gen, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 03:42:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10069685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoredomIsDeadly/pseuds/BoredomIsDeadly
Summary: Yuri Katsuki is content with retiring to his family inn to live out the rest of his life in relative peace and quiet following a certain incident and a period of fruitless adventuring. But he returns only to meet news that his dog had died, leaving him in a terrible mental state.So when Makkachin appears out of nowhere, he decides to return it to its owner in another kingdom before fully calling it quits.Fantasy + Magic AU





	1. The Final Trip

One could easily pass Yuri Katsuki off as their average adventurer. There is nothing in his possession - not the sword, or any article he wears signifies him as someone of importance. And really not, in his opinion. He’s dressed for the journey with the blue adventuring clothes and a cozy cape, with a standard looking sword. Nothing extravagant.

Each puff of air past his mouth formed visible warm mists. Yuri digs his shoes into the snow, fidgeting as little as he could while he waits at the town entrance. A bark captures his attention, and when he whips his head around he sees Makkachin running up to Yuri. The brown dog dashes beneath him into the enclosure of his cape like the wind, coiling beneath the man’s feet.. The carriage they are waiting for is still absent. At least it’s warm with Makkachin around, so Yuri doesn’t feel too miserable.

Makkachin isn’t his, despite their immense friendliness and deep trust in each other.

This foreign Kingdom known as Alden is a cold land. Many icy tundras and farmlands kiss the landscape, forests aplenty with mountain ridges and valleys decorating the backdrops. The landscape is breathtakingly beautiful with the many blessings of nature dotting the terrain. Occasionally Yuri would see some deposits of magic glowing out in the distance past his thick half rimmed glasses. He’s seen them infused into trees, flow out of waterfalls and even lying around within rocks as crystals. Each breath of air here felt pleasant to him, softly caressing his mental core. The land is that blessed.

Despite all the amazing sights, Yuri hopes he doesn’t have to spend the approaching winter alone in the capital. It’s only less than a day away from the rural farm where he currently is by carriage.

There is a vague but persistent feeling of homesickness hanging barely at the back of his mind, and he pushes it down to the deepest recesses where he doesn’t have to deal with it just yet. Yuri can hold out, he handle himself, he thinks. It’s only a little more; the path home is already in sight.

The carriage Yuri is waiting for finally reaches his location at some point while he’s sorting out his thoughts.. It slows to a halt at the town entrance, and Makkachin dashes out excitedly from beneath him with the power of a cannonball.

Yuri climbs onto the carriage with one fluid push of his leg. He clears a space just comfortable enough and motions for his smart canine companion to follow. Makkachin hops on obediently with some help from Yuri, plopping themselves down amidst goods from the farmland town lining the insides. The cold midday air isn’t as strong within the vehicle, but he’s craving for more warmth.

As if reading his thoughts, Makkachin nudges closer and climbs into Yuri’s lap. A happy sigh escapes Yuri’s lips, now feeling instantly better and thankful.

He hadn’t expect it at first, but to Yuri’s surprise, Makkachin is an extremely well trained adventuring dog. The poodle would always watch out for Yuri’s blindsides whenever they bumped into trouble along the off-shot roads, helping ease Yuri’s efforts in taking the occasional random monster or highwaymen down. Although there wasn’t anything Yuri couldn’t handle himself, he was glad for both that and the companionship nonetheless.

“You comfortable back there?”, came a gruff old voice from the front.

Yuri blinks a little at that. “Yes sir. Thanks for letting me on.”

The old farmer climbs onto the carriage, shaking the sturdy vehicle a little. “Carriage’s a little bit worn out. Sorry you’re getting this as payment. It’s really embarrassing, even if you’re the one who requested for it.”

Yuri’s a little surprised that that. It’s a free ride, how could he be complaining about it? “No, please. I’m happy you even let me on at all for something that trivial.”

”Trivial!?” A guffaw. “Nah, killing that murderous beast ain’t an easy feat. Don’t know how you did it alone with that pooch.”

Makkachin barks cheerfully at his lap. Yuri smiles a bit and showers the dog with affection. It’s bigger than his late dog, but the playfulness and behaviour was too similar not to ignore.

The driver gives Yuri a hand signal, asking if he’s ready to go. Yuri gives a once-over. He’s got his belongings, the travel bag, Makkachin, and he’s seated comfortably on top of the wooden panels. Everything he needs is with him. He nods back in response. The old man tips his beret in acknowledgement, and the wagon starts moving.

“Don’t worry about the payment,” Yuri says as he tries to break the awkward silence. “It’s really no big deal, honest. It wasn’t that strong - I didn’t do anything amazing enough to have the whole town throw a party like they did.”

“Humph. We are still gonna sing praises of you in the town tavern, with or without your approval. So, what you’re up to in the capital? Can’t say your race’s common ‘round here.” The old man motions to Yuri’s oriental features against his own Western ones. “What’d you travel from that other continent for?”

Yuri was expecting that question to come. “Ah, to return this poodle. I’m... not actually its’ owner.”

“Eh?” The man twists his whole body backwards, words jamming at the tip of his tongue in disbelief. “I’d thought you were!”

“I’m taking care of it at the moment.”, he explains. It wasn’t a lie.

Makkachin. The whole reason why he had started the journey was because of this poodle. This dog wasn’t his, thus the reason why he had to travel in the past month. The owner had thankfully left an address engraved into Makkachin’s collar that very helpfully notified Yuri where its home is.

Yuri remembers the day Makkachin popped out of a pink cloud onto the middle of the dining table in his home. Dinner had finished and the table was very thankfully cleared at that point. But that still didn’t stop him from yelling out of shock, assuming his dead dog might have revived from the grave. But it wasn’t the case. A teleportation magic gone wrong was the true trickster behind this distasteful prank.

His only goal was to deliver the poor misplaced dog back to it’s home sweet home, and he prefered it to be done as soon as possible despite the protests from his family members in regards to the timing of the trip.

And as it turns out, Makkachin’s home sweet home is smack dab right in this freezing cold kingdom, right under the nose of the King and Queen’s in the castles, or at least somewhere in that general vicinity. Which would mean Makkachin is owned by someone of status. Yuri has a hunch he knows who exactly is responsible for this bundle of warmth on his lap. There were only so many people who could be the owner of such a well lovely poodle within the castle walls of Almheif, and only one person with the skill to pull off such a spell. It’s the High Wizard for sure.

There were only a few people in the world who could pull of such a high level of magic. Even so, teleportation magic is still a relatively unexplored field. It’s a marvel how it could even be pulled off even by accident.

The High Wizard. A person who serves the king as his personal guard with his tremendous magical prowess - at least officially. Rumours spoke of the High Wizard being less of that, and more of a perfectionist individual enamored with studying magic within the walls of his home. The man is very public about certain aspects of his life, more than willing to share with the press and writers of himself. All throughout the journey Yuri had witnessed the sheer number and tenacity of his fans who were never exhaustive, location be damned. They sang praises of his chivalrous personality and his charming looks which painted only a blurry portrait of him in Yuri’s mind at best.

But for each praise about his characteristics, there were even more about the High Wizard’s skill in welding magic.

Yuri has read a great deal of Alden’s living legend’s work before. Simply put, it’s fantastic. There are so much practical formulas for everyday use, that even the common masses can use them freely. On the other side, there were also the destructive ones, but notes of those weren’t published often, and are harder to come by back in Higashi. But from what Yuri sees, any bit of it was a delight to lay eyes on, his brain accepting the concepts put forth by this phantom with delight. He thinks it’s just too bad he hasn’t got a face or name to associate the works with yet. It will be a lie to say that Yuri Katsuki wasn’t eager to see the man for the first time in his life.

But then it hits him hard, finally all this time into the journey. The phantom is a High Wizard. There was no way he could simply look walk up to his doorstep to talk to him. He has to seek an audience with the rulers of Alden, King Yakov and Queen Lilia, the man and woman who has the whole of this land under their thumbs.

If meeting new people was vaguely stressful, the idea of meeting them scares Yuri deeply.

To meet with the High Wizard means to seek the King and Queen’s permission. Speaking to them would be the easy part. Presenting himself in front of the King and Queen and explaining the circumstances was a whole other issue altogether. How was he supposed to explain that he needed to talk to his elite guard, guarded by guards, that he had arrived from another neutral Kingdom to return said elite guard’s dog without raising suspicion on himself?

Would the phantom even be there in the castle?

It will be difficult to explain the circumstances to the King and Queen, while trying not to appear like a malicious agent sent by his own kingdom of Higashi. The two kingdoms are indeed in peace, yes, but Higashi’s ruler had recently changed. Their previous policy of closing their Kingdom off to the world, sakoku, had only just been annulled for a little more than two decades. Yuri believes all of this to be a cause for some concern. What if the whole of Alden gets riled up about it?

The thoughts sends Yuri breaking out in cold sweat. Maybe he’s overthinking matters too much.

The dog whines suddenly, snapping Yuri out of his frustration. It seemed to want to calm Yuri down. His nervousness must have worried Makkachin.

“Oh,” He says. “Right, you’ll be there, so nothing bad will happen.” He snuggles Makkachin closer, who doesn’t seem to mind. “Just a little more and you’ll be home. Sorry I scared you.” Makkachin takes the apology energetically, pawing away at his feet. “Haha… Thanks. I kind of don’t want to see you go…”

Makkachin simply looks up and paws away again, tackling Yuri onto his back and showering him with affection.

“Stop, it tickles!” He giggles. “Are you this friendly with everyone you meet, or is it just me?”

Makkachin barks playfully.

Yuri had half a mind to keep this pooch for himself, to fill up that empty space in his own home. But seeing how well behaved Makkachin was, he could imagine how much its owner must be missing the dog as much as he did his. So instead he hugs Makkachin a little tighter. He wish he’d never let Makkachin go, and each passing moment fills him with a little more dread than the last.

Ultimately beyond all the mounting worries and the growing uneasiness, Yuri guess he’ll just have to let this whole adventuring business finally go. It was an interesting run. Makkachin is a good dog, and he really shouldn’t be this attached to it. Yuri knows the separation will be painful for him. Nothing had sunk in yet. Mentally, he was substituting his beloved late poodle with Makkachin.

He knows the pain will come after tomorrow ends. He knows it’s wrong to wish for the dog to stay with him, and how much the High Wizard must miss Makkachin. The dog has been looking more depressed. He knows all of these rationally, and yet…

Yuri sighs. He’s mentally worn out.

He tries to instead turn his attention to the the familiar yet different fluffiness spread on his legs, along the rhythmic rocking of the carriage. There are still hours in the day until he’s reached Alden. Plenty of time to spare for a short nap, he figures. He tugs his cloak around him and huddles up with Makkachin, who stays flat like a pancake on him.

The wooden panels lined up beneath him which formed the carriage caught his eye. He counts the number of lines between him and the carriage wall in an attempt to empty his mind. Slowly, his breath starts slowing, and he’s fighting off the sleep that’s creeping up on him like a sly temptress. Before he knows it, Yuri drifts off asleep in no time flat with the sway of the carriage.

He’s not sure how much time passed, but a sudden sharp jolt to the carriage causes him to smack his head on the floorboard. A groan escapes his lips, pain forcing him to peel his eyes open against his will. The warmth is right here, yet the driver is yelling at him to wake up. Makkachin is barking outside, away from Yuri. He climbs through the back, stopping midway and glaring at the scene before him.

A wild pack of ravenous wolves blocked the road. This was unexpected. In such proximity to the capital, and there are still danger on its roads. Where are the guards and the cleanup crew?

His blood pressure isn’t even back up properly yet. The inside of that carriage was really nice. Anger boils his mind and the draws his sword in a single swing. Out of his sight, Makkachin drags the old coachman out of the way.

Yuri cleans up the mess with a hiss.

Not one wolf escaped his reach.

* * *

By the time the carriage had arrived within the gates of the capital of Alden, the city of Almheif, the sun has set. Lamps powered by crystals infused with magic and their programming lights the street, and Yuri finds it fascinating despite his tired mind. He has read about such technologies, but this is the first time seeing it like this.

They don’t waste too much time finding an inn with a stable big enough for the carriage and the horses to rest. A guard is nodding off by the entrance to the stables, and another helps the two to their lot.

“Saved my hide twice, eh? I still can’t believe how fast you disposed of them,” was the first thing the old farmer says as he descends from the driver seat. “I knew you were great, lad, but that was - well - commendable. ”

Yuri honestly thinks it’s no big deal. Anyone can take care of a couple of wild wolves, surely.  
“Uhm, thank… you?” Yuri settles Makkachin down onto the floor as well. He twists to check he’s got all his belongings. The trip and that encounter might have caused some to shake loose, but everything seemed to be where they belong.

“Oh, uhm. I haven’t asked for your name yet, have I? I’m Ka-” He stops, before remembering the name structure in this land. He gets them mixed up often still. “Yuri Katsuki, thank you for the ride. This is Makkachin.”

Makkachin huffs proudly at his feet.

The man pauses for a moment, and Yuri thought he looked oddly startled for a moment. His expression returns quickly, and he breaks a wide grin with some weird sense of humour that completely flew over Yuri’s head. “Nikolai Koyla Plisetsky. Good to finally know your name. And this one’s’ too.”

Nikolai pays the guard for his lot, and they both walk outside to the entrance to the inn with Makkachin tailing close. Yuri asks for a cheaply priced room at the reception, but the man pays for him before he reaches into his wallet. It’s impossible to refuse when this elderly man is so insistent, and thus he finds himself staying the night for free.

And the dinner too. Nikolai foots both his bill and the dog’s as well, and Yuri’s at a loss, having no idea how he could repay this generous man back. It wasn’t necessary; money wasn’t a concern for Yuri, and he definitely didn’t need an elderly man to pay for both his food and lodging. Embarrassed, he holds back by ordering one of the cheapest food available to satiate his hunger, and orders meat for Makkachin.

Dinner settled, they both made their way back to the main lobby, where he suddenly has an idea.

“Are you heading back tomorrow, Mr. Nikolai?”, Yuri asks apprehensively.

“What, you stayin’ just for a day?” The old man laughs as if brushing off a joke. “Eh, well, I’m just here for deliveries, so I suppose that’s possible. Why the question?”

“I might just stay for a day, then head back to Higashi,” he agrees. “I was wondering if I could ride back, on your carriage.” Fearing he’s too blunt about the request, he quickly thinks and adds on to his request. “Er, I’ll work as your guard for free on way back in exchange for the ride?”

The man studies Yuri for a whole with arms crossed. There’s a pass - a weird moment of silent scrutiny before he speaks up. Yuri watches as the man shoots his glance towards Makkachin, who looks ready to sleep. “True, the militia aren’t doing their damn job these days, and you’d be of great help. But are you sure? Don’t you want to spend some time in this city before heading all that way back?”

Yuri’s pretty sure about what he wants to do. He just wants to get the hell out of this city before he really does gets stuck with the unfavourable travelling season. But before he is able to relay any of his thoughts, the man standing in front of him speaks before he can assert himself.

“Tell you what. 3 days. I’ll stay longer to visit my grandson. You come back to this inn anytime before sundown 3 days from now. Inform me, and I’ll take up on your offer only then.” Nikolai decides. “We’ll depart the moment you want to. Reasonable?”

It sounds good, especially the leeway in days. The gears in Yuri’s head starts turning. Get his business done, pack for the trip back, and then hit the road. He should be reaching the harbour situated at the edge of Alden, reaching his home in just as winter starts. He won’t be stuck on the trip in the middle of winter where the cold is said to be especially bad. It’d end just a little before that, if he times himself right. And in the worst case, he figures he can speed up the journey a little through magic, although he’s reluctant to fall on this backup plan. He’s no High Wizard himself, but there are tricks even he can pull off.

“I hope that isn’t inconvenient for you,” says Yuri. “Thank you.”

“Not at all. I want your skills. Don’t think I can find a better guard at a better price!” He laughs.

Nikolai pats the younger man on the back. Their conversation goes on for a little while more with Yuri asking about the local shops and the way to the castle. It’s not long before Yuri notices the man looking tired, so they both agree to retire to their rooms for the night.

Yuri’s room is at the edge of the hallway. He reaches the door to his room for the night, and takes out a key to open it. There’s a lamp by the side of the door, and he lights it with a matchstick placed beside it. Makkachin trials behind him closely, and he makes sure the sleepy dog is fully in before closing the door.

Issuing a command for Makkachin to wait, Yuri proceeds to remove his boots, stepping past the door mat. There’s a table, which he abuses by dumping his belongings across the surface. Yuri reaches for a cloth within the small mountain of items, whipping with it around to wipe off Makkachin’s feet. As he does, he realizes Makkachin’s fur… isn’t ideal. Especially not for tomorrow.

Yuri glances around the room. There is a decent sized clock on the wall, its arrows pointing to late night. A door to the bathroom is next to it along some towels in a closet to the side. There are towels stored in the closet. He swipes them.

Yuri draws the curtains close and starts removing his clothes until he’s only in his underwear. He’s surprised that the cold isn’t biting his skin. Perhaps because the inn has heating. He hangs up his clothing on a hangar before motioning to the dog waiting obediently for his next command.

“Come, Makkachin. Let’s give you a proper bath.”

To Yuri’s surprise, the heater isn’t powered by fuel and fire. His skin tickles with the familiar, little sparks dancing across his body, barely noticeable. It’s definitely magic powered. Warm water comes flowing out when he turns on the faucet. It feels like pure bliss against Yuri’s skin. The bathroom seems to be warmer than the room outside too.

“Warm water, Makkachin!”

The dog barks back happily.

It hasn’t even been a day and he can see why Nikolai had suggested for him to stay for a few days. Here he is, staying in a normal, inexpensive room in an inn near the gates of the capital, and already there are conveniences unavailable in the countryside. All magic technology made to benefit the average citizen and the city’s visitors. If this is the surface, what’s just under it?

To say that Yuri is impressed is an understatement. Higashi’s capital has its own fair share of magitek conveniences too, but not accessible to this extent.

Makkachin gets bathed first, but Yuri finds it difficult to dry Makkachin’s fur with the towels. They are doing absolutely nothing to help dry the dog’s lovely fur, the absorbency dooring a poor job of the only thing it was made to do. Yuri sighs at this. It’s too late for him to deal with this.

So Yuri decides to take a shortcut, despite being reluctant to use it on someone else other than himself. It’s only manipulating basic elements of magic and none of those complex theorems or spells of mass destruction. Surely it would pass without incident.

A warm glow emits in his palm. The warmth heats up rapidly, and Yuri quickly sets to work. He brings his warm hand up to Makkachin’s fur and starts drying it with his magic. He mixes it up by conjuring a bit of wind to help with the drying, and it works. Makkachin’s fur is soon dry with Yuri speeding through the process. A quick brushing later, and Makkachin’s pancake coloured fur is practically sparking.

Yuri looks at his own handiwork. Above the layer of uneasiness of using his magic was the overflowing pride of his handiwork. Makkachin pelts him with affectionate licks again, and the uneasiness vanish.

He turns around back into the bathroom, helping himself next. He doesn’t waste much time with the soaking in the tiny bathtub, a far cry from the onsen back at home. The towel at least works when it comes to water on skin, even if it didn’t with hair. He dries his wet, black hair the same way he dried Makkachin’s fur in no time at all.

Slipping into his pajamas, he yawns. The exhaustion of the entire trip is creeping into him. A huff and the light in the room is completely out. Makkachin rushes to join him under the blankets, gladly welcomed by Yuri who wraps his arms around.

Yuri thinks a little about Nikolai and his offer. 3 days sounds like a reasonable amount of time to him. He could leave earlier, but he didn’t want to cut short the man’s visit to his grandson. So he makes a mental note to come back at the final day before sundown, silently promising make sure no harm fell upon Nikolai on the way back.

A few moments later, he’s passed out, dead to all on the bed fast asleep until morning.

* * *

Thankfully, the morning isn’t freezing him to his bones. People were sparse in the streets, the shop houses still not open at this early into the morning. Lampposts powered by magic just barely hours ago have now all been shut off, burning no magic fuel at all.

Makkachin seemed to know where it is now. Usually, it’s Yuri walking in the lead. This time, Makkachin is the one leading Yuri out into the myriad of twists and turns on the streets. Yuri had been expecting to be asking for directions and getting lost a few times, but instead they made it to the castle with little time lost and not a question exchanged with the locals. Yuri stands dumbfounded in the heart of the kingdom against Makkachin’s is ecstatic frolicking around Yuri feet.

The castle and the land it rests on is so enormous, Yuri has trouble trying to put a scale to it in his mind. There are guards posted all over, but he met no resistance at all on his way in. Alden’s security is amazing in more ways than one, Yuri thinks. Things would be completely different in Higashi with multiple levels scrutiny. He’s not sure what to make of this yet. Good? Bad? He sure doesn’t know.

It doesn’t take much effort in finding the reception to seek and audience. There seems to be little to nothing standing in the way between the citizens and the rulers, which is… strange. He expected more. More bureaucracy. More paperwork. More hassle. But all he needed to do, according to Nikolai, was to stroll in as casually as possible. So he does just that, but with stiffer motions, more than what he would have liked. He’s certain he looked the perfect opposite of casual.

If he could get in without a hitch, wouldn’t an attacker easily get in? Was this how Alden had always conducted itself within the past 5 decades of peace? The questions popped into his mind, but he concluded this was not his business to care about.

Yuri didn’t think being watched was strange at first. But the longer he stayed, the stronger the glares felt. They were jabbing in all directions, from the guards and the few important staff walking around. Uneasiness grips him. He fought against his instinct to reach the hilt of his sword, his mind fighting against his jitteriness, trying to assure himself that he wouldn’t need to draw it out. Any act of hostility would be really unwise.

He is very, very thankful the queue is short, at least. The old woman before him has her business settled rather quickly; it took not more than 10 minutes for her session, whatever it may be. Yuri’s not too invested in the matters of others since he has one urgent case on his hands right now. A female attendant with hair tied in a bun at the counter looks up to him come his turn, and Yuri gulped. “An audience with His and Her Majesty, King Yakov and Queen Lilia?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Despite her poker face, Yuri feels the attendant’s gaze claw like rock against his skin. Her face appeared stiff, but her steel like eyes said it all. Is his race that rare of a sight here?

She flips a page of the book beneath her. It seems to be a registry of sorts, and her quill stands by at the ready. “Your business with them?”

“Oh, not His and Her Majesty. With the High Wizard, actually. I want to return his dog.” Yuri gestures to Makkachin who is loyally by his side, completely at ease.

The attendant doesn’t respond, only blinks. Her unnaturally owl-like eyes seemed to grow larger by the second. Then, she suddenly slams the table startling Yuri, whose heart jumped and felt like it was stuck dead at his throat. She stands up too fast and nearly doubles over the counter, her stare directing towards Makkachin. “Oh my god,” she breathes. The force of her shoving back to steady herself causes the table to drag across the floor. The sound must have shocked everyone in the lobby, because it was suddenly dead silent. “He has the dog!”

One of the two high ranked looking guard decorated with royal emblems standing by the grandest, most noble, proud looking doors to the throne snaps his head towards her. He lifts the front of his helmet. There is a sleepy expression on his face. “Beg pardon?”

She points her finger towards the brown poodle who is still completely at ease. “Were you just staring off into space the whole time, Johannes? HE HAS THE DOG!”

The sleepy expression was replaced in a snap with shocked joy.

It was unnerving.

At Makkachin’s bark, every guard came scrambling towards Yuuri and the dog.

Yuri isn’t sure what’s going on. The decorated guard comes up besides him in a hurry and escorts him to the door while the attendant shoves him forwards. There were more people in metal than he can keep track of all around him. One were each on his side in a flash. A guard -he’s not sure which one at this point- motions for Yuri to hand him his sword within the blur, which Yuri complies without protest. They don’t leave their eyes off Makkachin at all as Yuri is shoved through, his cape barely escaping the door’s closing grip. Now he’s standing in beyond the door, with the right guard holding his sword and the left on high alert. He has been practically dumped on the other side.

The beginning of the audience signals with a loud thud.

Yuri’s mind starts racing and reaches multiple horrible, disastrous conclusion all within the span of a minute. It takes all of his willpower to stop his panic taking over the rational part of his mind, and even then it wasn’t enough to stop his breath from being cut short.

He quickly squashes the idea of having a moment to mentally prepare himself. All he sees is the red carpet at the moment. He doesn’t really want to look up, but the air feels like an anvil inside this wide and sparse room. His sight follows the red carpet beneath him, carrying it up, up, and up to the two thrones shrined at the end of it. There were a few very important looking people, both on and off the throne in that direction. It sets off something in Yuri, and suddenly he loses all the control he had over his own emotions.

Something at the back of his mind starts swirling madly. Everything feels far, and dread sets in. He’s alone, closed off in a throne room with people who has the power to lock him up, trapping him away from home. No, worse still, maybe execute him for being a spy. Declare a war with his mere presence. Accuse him of whisking away Makkachin from its own home and owner, a clear sabotage attempt.

His grip on his arms clenches like vices. Yuri’s breaths starts coming out in short puffs. Sickness swells in his stomach, and he feels ready to keel over.

The whole situation is much worse than what he had originally expected it to be, losing control of his mental state even before speaking to the King and Queen.

His panic abates only slightly when he notices Makkachin pawing his knees, looking up to him. Begrudgingly, he moves slowly forward. Rationally, he lifts his chin upwards to face the King and Queen, gulping down useless air. His mind isn’t focusing well, registering only the strange looks on their faces in the foreground before red, gold, pink and purple mixed in a blur. The King’s look not quite as stern as what Yuri expected them to be, especially with the scowl settled in his features like stone.

Yuuri pushes himself, forcefully going through the script he’s prepared in his mind countless times despite the crippling thumping in his chest. All he needs to do is this, and then he’ll be out the way he came within the hour.

“Y-Your Majesties, I-I have come to-I’m from Higashi. I’m Yuri Katsuki. I have travelled from afar to return Makkachin, which had appeared suddenly in my home. I believe it belongs to the High Wizard. That’s all I’m here for.” Yuri gestures with open palms to the dog, who strangely doesn’t leave his feet despite being on all fours, excited beyond anything he’s ever seen. He does feel the fluffiness from the dog brush against his feet which calms the nerves. Yuri feels forever grateful.

“So you have. Be at ease, you have done a great deed. Thank you.” The King audibly sighs, rubbing his temple. “Makkachin’s owner is next to me.”

Yuri’s focused must have been so narrowed. He didn’t even realize the man standing beside the King, in a very complimenting shade of pink, donned in a cape and a very loose dress shirt, exposing his chest to the world. In the haze of the jumbled nerves, the man’s platinum hair, ceramic skin and cobalt eyes pierced through his mental fog. In that moment, he thought this man looked like the living embodiment of Alden’s landscape itself, the glow, and the beauty of it all.

The bright smile he offers to Yuri is practically burning his retinas. “I’m Victor Nikiforov. Thank you for bringing my Makkachin back.”

This man is breathtakingly beautiful. So much it was that Yuri’s mind hadn’t registered this person as a human being until he spoke. But despite that, there are too many things to focus on and worry about, his mind refusing to be fully shut off the flood of anxiety, the smile bringing only brief relief. His mind is failing terribly at keeping himself grounded and composed, and it must have been reflected in his body language.

No word could squeeze through his lips to form any sort of reply, and leaving abruptly isn’t an option either. A chill runs down his spine, and he feels the urge to flee scream at him louder than it had ever been.

The fingers under his gloves burned with the fiddling he has abused them with.

Makkachin seemed to sense this and it whined very audibly. It pawed away at his leg, not having any success in drawing his attention which was lost in his mental bog. It looked back up at Victor, whose bright overjoyed expression morphed into one riddled with worry, something that isn’t being processed by Yuri right now.

The man throws a look to the King for some reason, who only nods back sternly before easing his body into the chair, however unnatural it looked with the forced thuggish echo. The Queen, however, simply lowers her chin a little, but signals something undecipherable to Yuri for all the guards in the room.

At the edge of his sight he vaguely registers an overly extravagant cape moving along with its wearer, who seemed to place each step with a great deal of care, as if he was on eggshells. Gingerly did the man try to extend a palm to him, but he withdrew it the moment Yuri flinched from refocusing into the situation he was in. Yuri finds that it’s a pleasant gesture all the same.

“Are you alright? Calm down. I’m not going to do anything to you, Katsuki.” The man named Victor says.

Yuri nods, but the name spoken sounded strange to his ears. The reassurance seems to help, the panic gripping him so tightly eased a little, letting him breathe better.

Makkachin barks at Yuri’s feet, tail swishing side to side, but its chin is pressed to the floor. Oddly enough, the dog did not leave his side throughout the whole embarrassment of an ordeal, not even after he’s calmed down enough to look at the stranger’s face. He avoids staring into the eye, still unsure if he could handle that much pressure just yet. Yuri sifts through the many words running through his mind, but he finds it hard to settle on any. Socializing and holding a conversation isn’t a one of his strengths, and he finds it difficult to bring himself to say anything remotely right.

Instead Yuri sees Makkachin giving a glance to him, who nods back with a silent approval. The dog picks itself off the ground trots over to the stranger. Victor picks the dog up from the ground with a wide smile before hugging the huge dog like a teddy bear. Yuri is very glad that at this moment in time his past self had the foresight to give Makkachin a bath the night before.

“Thank you for bringing him back.” The man says with a gentle smile graced upon his features. Makkachin turns around to attack the man with affectionate licks, out of place and very unexpected in this formal, stifling setting.

Once upon a time, he too had a poodle in his own home. They had been together for years until Yuri had to leave his kingdom to pursue a goal now lost, and when he was finally able to return to see the family member so loyal to him, Vicchan was no longer around. Mari had been there to cheer up her little brother, and so did his parents in however little they could. But the home felt so much bigger without his pet around, so much emptier that it made the return depressing.

Yuri wouldn’t wish the same pain on Makkachin’s owner even if they hadn’t even crossed paths at all. He can only guess how happy the man before him is to see his beloved pet back alive, unharmed and well after a month of not seeing it. Deep within him was a part that wished someone had done the same for him, but it’s a silly thought. All the panic in his muscles melts away at the sight in front of him. Yuri is glad he made the trip despite everything. It is all worth it.

“I hope I didn’t take too long in bringing Makkachin back to you,” Yuri finally says.

“Too long? Not at all!” The man waves his palms in assertion. “I didn’t expect anyone to bring Makkachin back, much less so soon, given the season! I’m really sorry. I had messed up a teleportation spell by accident. I really didn’t mean for that to happen and for you to travel all the way here from home.”

There’s a snort somewhere in the room for some reason.

Yuri accepts the apology with a curt nod anyway. “It’s alright. Alden is a nice place.” He steals a glance at the Wizard’s features. It’s uncanny how much he reminds him of the land.

Victor daringly takes a few steps closer. The man is still holding Makkachin aloft with his arms, but he’s leveraging it to Yuri’s face, and Makkachin seizes the chance to lick Yuri on his cheek. The smile Victor gave to Yuri made him blush down to his toes. His heart starts thumping a little too loudly in his ears, different from the panic he had earlier.

Could he can leave now that he’s done his job?

Victor makes another hand gesture towards the King and the Queen, who seemed to accept whatever message behind it again. Yuri finds it odd that the High Wizard held this extent of sway to the powers above him, but ultimately chose not to question it since it wasn’t a pressing matter at the moment.

There’s a few whispers exchanged on the throne before the stern Queen speaks. “Victor. This young man has traveled from afar to return the dog you have whined so much about for the past month. How do you desire him to be awarded?”

Yuri is taken aback at that word. He snaps his head too quickly towards the Queen. “Award? No, I don’t need one.”

“No need to hold back, is there anything you’d like?” Victor says. Makkachin has now been freed him his hold, now sitting right beside his owner on the red carpet with a relaxed posture, short tail swishing from side to side. Something tugs at Yuri’s heart upon laying his eyes on the dog. He’s too painfully aware they won’t be seeing each other for much longer once he walks out of this room.

He casts the thought aside. Moping isn’t needed right now. Yuri shakes his head. “I don’t need anything. I’ll be happy if I can just leave-”

“You can’t just leave empty handedly,” The man interrupts him. ”Do you want money? Fame? ”

He gives it a brief pause. Money isn’t an issue to him since he had more than enough with his living habits. Fame is something he wishes to avoid completely. The idea of having his name known throughout a whole Kingdom scares him; he just wishes for a quiet life. Yuri shakes his head fervently at all those suggestions. “I don’t need either of those,” he says with the most polite tone he could muster.

The eyebrows of this man curls into a worried frown. He starts tapping on his chin and looks around the room, as if in an attempt to find something. “A portrait? Treasures? ...A festival in your name, perhaps? ”

Yuri shoots down all of the suggestions, feeling there isn’t a need for such material things. Especially not a festival! “While I am very grateful, I don’t need any of those. The only reason I came was to return Makkachin to its proper owner, then return home before winter sets in fully. I don’t desire any reward, I have plenty of money to support myself.” None of what he said was a lie. Despite Makkachin already being on the side of its true owner, the idea of parting hasn’t sunk in yet, and he wants to leave before it hunts him down and crushes him mercilessly like a vice. Pushing up whatever confidence he had in him, he turns to the King and Queen. “I wish to leave.”

The finger on his chin falls. The High Wizard seems greatly troubled at that. For a moment no one said a thing. The guards looked at each other, and the rulers sat dumbfoundedly. The panic from before returned, accompanied by an odd feeling- one that Yuri couldn’t put his finger on. It seemed that they had all been eagerly expecting him to be rewarded for something that was clearly an accident caused by dabbling in magic. Turning down all of these reward promised so whimsically seemed to send the room grinding into a screeching halt from whatever plan they had in store for him.

An idea creeps up in the back of Yuri’s mind. Had they all been planning something? The thumping in his throat threatened to rip apart his veins. The room seemed to swirl. His mind was yelling at him even louder to leave at this moment, even if he had to claw up the walls. But he resisted with a strained lip. He knew for a fact they could not lift a finger against him with diplomatic tensions riding quietly beneath the surface. And neither could he to them.

Sensing the frustration in the air, the Queen sighs, and that seemed to break all of the lingering pressure in the air. Yuri had expected her voice to be stern, but instead it had betrayed her strict looking features. “Very well. If that is what you wish, you may leave.”

Cobalt eyes widened. Victor stuttered at the Queen’s words.“But- I refuse to let him just leave like this.”

Queen Lilia does not respond, seemingly interested in opting to end the whole session instead of dragging it on further. King Yakov’s eyes narrowed at that, but the old wise man did not protest. Instead he shook his head and ran a hand down his face. “Guards, let him leave if he wants. We will not keep him here any longer if he does not wish to stay.”

Yuri’s heart eased its painful throbbing ever so slightly at the announcement. It’s a ray of light to him. He turns around slowly, trying not to fall over with the sickness churning in his stomach. The doors opens with a creak, and the guards made a generous leeway for his passage. The red carpet outwards looked even more inviting than it was when he came in.

He takes the first step foward, refusing to look back. But a bark causes him to flinch, and he almost does. The urge to at least say goodbye to Makkachin is present, and along with the bitter sorrow of having to part.

He shakes his head. He should leave, and fast.

Yuri walks for the exit, hands gripping on his own shirt, knuckles white under his gloves. A guard passes his sword back to him, and he quickly snaps it back on around his waist without faltering in his step, with the door closing shut behind him. He must have almost broken into a run, his walking steps loud and snappish against the stone floor reverberating across the the walls. His legs burned with the desire to run, but he forces them to walk, refusing to create a reason for the guards to run after him.

Makkachin would be safe for sure now at least. It would be back home with its owner, tucked away from the dangers of the road and untrustworthy strangers. Away from himself who so sorely missed his late poodle that he would even swoop as low as to entertain the idea of keeping someone away from their family member. How disgusting, he thought. He didn’t deserve any reward for that.

At least now he can return home, where he will be safe and sound from the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I don't know. I took a long time writing this first chapter. What is life? Why am I working in a game shop? How many Nintendo Switch did I sell? Why am I typing this? I am very tired. This is an actual ending note you're reading. 
> 
> Well hey, I hope you enjoyed reading this. I'm not sure where it will go. Please kick my ass if it sucks thanks.


	2. Being Lost

Eventually Yuri grew physically tired from the frenzied steps he had taken and he slowed down to a stop. The stress within him settled from its grand riot, and he could focus again. But when he does he finds that everything is now looking even more foreign than it ever had. In his muddled mental state he had not realize that he hadn’t been paying attention to the turns he took after unconsciously navigating through the castle and far out past the gates. The environment around him didn’t click with any bit of his memory- signs look out of place and the road narrower than the main avenues. It’s a back alley, and it’s eerily quiet and devoid of people, which just sends Yuri into another bout of minor panic again, cursing at himself for the avoidable blunder.

Of course he had taken the wrong turn with noise flooding his mind. A part of him must have wanted to avoid people completely, driving him to unconsciously seek out the path with the least possible amount of people, which was definitely a smashing success. There is not even a peep to indicate anyone is present around here, only the soft whistling of the wind were heard.

 _“Don’t go get lost in Almheif now, little bro,”_ Mari had said Yuri when he left the house a month ago. He still remembers the way she said it, casually leaning on the door frame with a lit kiseru pipe and all. _“Watch yourself, alright?”_

But here he is now. Lost and alone.

At least the location is quiet, and it allowed him to pause and gather himself together. Yuri sucks in a breath of air to try and clear his mind. It works somewhat.

Judging from the angle of the shadows and the temperature of the sun, Yuri assues it’s currently just slightly after noon. He had indeed finished his business within the span of an hour after being unceremoniously dumped into the throneroom. In spite of his own blunder at keeping his panic in check, and he suppose he could say things went well. Makkachin has been returned and no arrest was issued. Granted, the arrest part seems to be extreme, but he knows his anxiety well enough to know how it loves planting ideas in his mind. He’s not too keen about beating himself up further.

Yuri does a small stretch of his feet and scans the area. It’s a small clearing deep within rows of brick houses for the affluent. The tall walls of the castle are just barely in sight behind the tiled roofs sitting on the top of high brick houses. The direction of the sun and the walls indicated his general position, but those information alone aren’t enough to get his bearings. Not even the magic currents smoothly flowing under his feet, lifeblood of the city, could tell him anything as they were flowing in every direction. Behind him is the path he took, but it was too far muddled for him to backtrack. There weren’t any hints on where he has to go to get out of this place.

He covers his face briefly in exasperation and huffs, almost laughing at the situation he’s in. If only Makkachin is around...

So he walks with his boots clanking against stone, trying to find any signs, any scrap of hint to get to the main roads. The wideness of the walkway expands and contracts randomly, and the overall variation of the houses does not change much, helping Yuri very little in the way of navigation. He almost does panic again, but he knew better. Keeping his mind focused, Yuri marched on regardless, hoping that the exit isn’t too far. A significant amount of time must have passed since he realized his situation until the pathway finally opened up, inviting him to a main street.

There Yuri took a huge sigh of relief, letting all his frustration and panic out of his chest, pressing one hand over as if it helped. By then the skyline had started to change into an orange hue in the early afternoon due to the season, sparse cloud up above. Yuri found himself hungry. There is the general exhaustion too, but hunger stood out the most.

Thankfully, there is a restaurant seemingly by the other side of the pavement Yuri is standing on, a row of brick houses behind him. The building is three stories tall, the first used for the very inviting, homely looking restaurant, and a stair to the second tucked away at the back, presumably living space for the owners. An inviting wooden sign hangs over it, the word “Ruveria’s” in cursive - at least, he thinks it is. Cursive is still mostly a bunch of garbled puzzle for Yuri, and he isn’t completely sure about the name.

He knows the price of the food might be high in this uppity area, but he decides to go for it, too unwilling to wander any more at this point to find a cheaper alternative.

He sweeps the street with his eyes. There are some people on the streets now, few carriages running up and down the road which gives Yuri some bit of assurance that he wasn’t going to get lost again anytime soon.

A small chalkboard greets Yuri at the entrance with a simple menu. From the content presented, it’s most likely a cafe than a restaurant. Briefly his eye catches “pork chops”, and he knows what he wants for late lunch.

A waiter guides him to his table at the entrance, and both the seat and table are surprisingly simple looking. Ordering wasn’t exactly the smoothest experience; Yuri had found himself flusteredly cancelling an order for some meat for Makkachin out of habit.

For the upteenth time that day, Yuri sighs.

He feels miserable..

The inside, Yuri notes, feels soft despite the bare stone walls, the decors pleasant with the homely touch with the occasional green plants, and the floors covered in warm ornate wood. It’s a nice cafe that Yuri really appreciates. He hasn’t been in another eatery like this in this style. It’s a sharp contrast to the one back home - extremely haphazard in terms of presentation, a mess of knick-knacks that his parents had collected from all over Higashi back when they were younger, yet it is home to him all the same.

Time ticked by away slowly before a mouth-watering and piping hot dish of pork chops arrives at his table, lovingly presented with beautifully glazed sauce that seemed to shine under the light and topped with spring onions. There is a nicely chopped portion of garden salad by the side with some cheese. Yuri feels absolutely ecstatic at this display, eager to dig in at the sight of it.

How long has it been since he had such a wonderful looking meal?

It only takes a bite to kickstart Yuri’s fierce appetite, and he’s devouring in chunks in bliss. He’s only a few minutes into eating and he’s halfway down to half the pork chop - his very delicious and very juicy pork chop. Any fats on the meat seems to melt on his tongue, and the cooking is perfect. It’s too good. Yuri figures his speed must be pretty shocking since all of the sudden there are a pair of green eyes staring down at him from another table. A blonde teenager looks at him jaws hanging open with a fork held in a backwards grip, and there are bits of borscht falling off that fork.

Yuri mimics the action and stares back with wide startled eyes, only except with the extra helping of red hot embarrassment. They briefly made eye contact - blinking all the while in that moment - and then he shies away from the gold, green, and black below that head and looks down back into his dish. It’s a stranger, a younger teenager at that, and he’s seizing Yuri up.

He doesn’t have the guts to lift his head and look back at the face of the teenager. There isn’t enough courage in him to shrug it off. He’s a man in this early twenties seated across against a boy in his teens and he can’t do it. The fact of that comes knocking on his awareness loudly and boldly.

He wishes he could crawl under a rock and just stay there forever.

That teenager blinks, frowns, and stares at Yuri further. There isn’t a rock in sight(save for the walls) to rescue him from the stranger by hiding under it, and it’s too awkward for him to speak up. The pressure wells up with a threatening speed, and it’s getting too much to handle. Something urges him to leave, Yuri decides to hastily finish whatever’s left on his plate and somehow manages to ask for the bill under the mangled directions given by his embarrassment.

A payment and two trips made by the waiter later, Yuri is good to go. He quickly snatches his own belongings before pushing himself off the seat.

As he stood and made this exit, a voice from the table, his ears catches a stray question, stopping him. “Hey, pork chops. What were you thinking back there in the throne room?”

“Huh?” Yuri blurts out, caught completely off guard. The ordeal from before being the very last thing on his mind for the moment in a place so unrelated to the events back in the castle, causing a chill to run down his spine.  
  
Sighing, the boy with the green eyes shrugs in a manner that seems to suggest that he had some expectations of Yuri. “Victor was really looking forward to meeting you, you stupid, dense pork chops.” The last word seems to spill like acid from the boy, but lacking in any strength enough to sting Yuri’s ears, as if the intentions behind them and the insult was completely mismatched. “Who in their right mind just leaves when being offered things like that?”

Perplexed, Yuri can only assume the other was present in the throne room during that audience. “I-. Well. Who are you?”

“Why should I tell you?” He snorts, and that sound drags him back in the throne room at noon. It is the sound he had heard hours ago, and this is definitely the same brash person sitting in front of him. Yuri watches as the boy toys with his fork, observing the glint with the most nonchalant look in the world. His head is fully slacked, supported only by his arm, eyes glinting as if to taunt Yuri into a confrontation. The taunt falls flat.

It’s uncomfortable.

Yuri’s attention is grabbed by the boy’s side glance towards him, and then towards the chair across his seat. There’s a slight tilt of a head, an invitation to sit down on his table for a talk. Yuri puffs and takes up the offer to occupy the empty wooden seat.

“Alright,” Yuri says. This stranger is many years his junior. Frustration did bubble within him, but at his age he knew better than to be baited into a pointless argument when he could just talk it out. Defusing the situation is many times better than raising a stink, he had nothing to prove anyway. “That teleportation was an accident, wasn’t it? I only came to return Makkachin to its’ family as soon as possible. Not getting rewarded. There’s nothing I want here.”

To Yuri’s absolute surprise, the boy sneered, his features making him look more like a riled up cat than anything. “What. The. Fuck. You. Are a real piece of work.” There’s a hand running through blonde locks, a sigh, and what seems to be an onset of a headache if the hand massaging his temples were any indication.

“...So this was planned, then?” Yuri asks. “But why? I’m just another adventurer living in Higashi. What has this got to do with me?”

“The plan was to…” The words fades into an awkward silence. A hand combs through golden locks again, and there’s another sigh. “Look, I swear to god we meant no harm, but I’m not going to spill. Oh, by we, I mean the King and Queen and fucking Victor and everyone in that big ass castle.”

“...The King and Queen.” The glasses on Yuri’s face slips off a little, and he has to push it back into position.

“Yes.” The boy says, with every bit of honesty fully appreciated by Yuri. “King old fart and Queen nosy.”

...That bit of honesty, maybe not.

“And the High Wizard?”

“Especially him,” the boy sticks his tongue out and gags.

Yuri’s ears twitches at that. What would the High Wizard possibly want with Yuri? His mind starts scrambling to digest the information he had just been fed. But it doesn’t work; his train of thought stopping dead in its tracks. Unlike before back in the throne room where his brain could somehow piece together all manners of negative conclusions, he finds that he could come up with neither negative nor positive ones here.

But he does understand a few things. People were dragged into this against their will. And if the boy sitting across from him is indulging him in some information all the while giving no hints of any plots, he supposes there really is no malicious intent in their actions.

He smiles sympathetically, and the other boy raises a eyebrow at that. “So I take it you were dragged into a mess you wanted nothing to do with?”

Sneering, the other offered no retort, confirming that Yuri is indeed right on the mark. A sigh seeps through the fingers of his palm that’s half holding his chin up. Resigned, the boy drops any and all hints of hostility, any tension throughout the whole conversation seemingly evaporating. Yuri doesn’t feel the strain anymore.

“...Yuri Plisetsky. That’s my name.” The boy mumbles.

“Hm?” Yuri blinks. “...Yuri?”

“The same name as yours.” The other Yuri says. “Now go away and let me eat.” He waves a hand to shoo Yuri away, unwilling to continue the conversation any further. Yuri tries to continue the conversation only to be met with more growling and glares. He sighs. Picking himself off the chair, Yuri makes his exit.

That night Yuri leaves the restaurant with a fully stomach and a newfound sense of curiosity.

\------

The morning of the next day hits Yuri like a shower of freezing shower of ice the moment he stepped a foot out of the inn. Apparently the temperature had dipped drastically throughout the night and he has to pull together his cape around him for his body to even move. The outside of the same inn he had stayed previously is such a sharp contrast to the inside, it’s absurd!

“Why this…” He murmurs to himself.

He finds his side too empty, a brown fluff void persistently hanging around. He hopes, desperately, to not get lost again today.

The biting cold is incredibly rough on his nose. Barely a touch could be felt.

The drop in temperature is worrying. It’s way too ahead of time and Yuri prays hard to whatever Gods responsible for the weather to quit screwing around and to do their job properly, if they exist. Cursing them might be a bad idea, what with his fate for the next few months literally in their palms. He laughs a little inside, that same worrying feeling seeping back into his thoughts again.

People have already filled the streets despite the early morning, and there are children running about. They have no issues with being outside, but then again they do live here unlike Yuri. He would be laughed out of town if he said told any locals was cold now; it could be much worse.

Yuri makes a beeline for the nearest magic shop in the vicinity as told by Nikolai. Heat related equipments should be available to help him to make his trip back home more bearable. His parents would probably add it to their collection of knick-knacks like magpies again, on top of the bulk of other useless magic items. At least it looks interesting.

Then he has an idea.

Even better yet for him, there is a common one Yuri has in mind. It’s a simple piece of perishable magic stone which could output more heat energy with each bit of magic, a piece of fuel. Usually it would be used with some equipment, which Yuri really doesn’t need. Then he could check out the other magic wares available only in Almhief, which would surely send him into a mini fanboying fit.

He finds his way easily this time without getting lost, to a door to the shop located in a shadier part of the city. A few display wares are beyond a window to the side of the door, in front of black velvet cloth, and a store sign, the only clues for people to know what kind of shop this is. It makes sense, since these shops can be as dangerous as a weapon store, and permits are needed for higher level items.

Fingers itched at that thought. Yuri had thrown his away some time ago.

The inside of the shop must be dark inside with no front window light going in, Yuri thinks. He pushes the wooden door gently into the store, triggering a pleasant sounding bell.

Chattering greets his ears as soon as the door is even slightly ajar. Peeking shyly in, Yuri there is a person, taller than Yuri in a cloak with the hood pulled over laughing away, and a female store attendant speaking back gleefully.

They both glance over to his direction at the ringing, the cloaked person… gasping, apparently.

“Oh, welcome!” Says the store store attendant. She looks at the cloaked person with an apologetic look, with a quick “Sorry, let me do my job for a while.”

Yuri pauses, smiles, nods awkwardly, and walks further in towards the counter. The cloaked individual, face covered by the shadow of the hood, kindly makes space for him. Nothing yelled danger, so Yuri feels pretty relaxed as he approaches the counter. “Hello, I’d like to stock up on some fire stones, if it’s alright.”

“Sure, how much would you like?” The attendant is enthusiastic, her attention fully to Yuri. Somehow he is reminded of his childhood friend a little.

“Hm…” He does a quick motion, running through the math inside his head. “About 1.2 kilos worth.”

“Alright! Wait a moment please.” She smiles and slinks off into the back of the door where the goods are, since that’s where the more active magic items are kept.

Instead of waiting idly, Yuri entertains himself by looking around. There are pieces of equipment, weird looking magitek scattered around on the shelf on his side of the counter. There are so much unfamiliar items lying around. A few, like a wand or a lamp was obvious enough to know what they were for.

But then there are… shapes, decorated eggs, possibly music boxes, necklace and rings without any attachment set in and uncharged spells talisman all over. The more valuable ones are sit in a glass case away from Yuri’s reach, and he finds himself scrutinizing all of them one by one with starry eyes, gloved hands against the glass.

The reflection of a cloaked person catches his eye and Yuri quickly reminds himself there is another person in the shop watching him. He flinches, suddenly too aware about his own actions.  
Ignoring his own embarrassment and how flushed his cheeks are, he moves in front of a towering bookshelf, a step ladder resting by the side. Excited, he grabs one without a thought and skimps through the contents. Then another, and another, with arms swiping with frightening speed. There so much theories, hypothesis and formulas! Yuri beams, making a small squee at one written by the High Wizard. He takes only a few moments to devour the sight of the familiar title, the line of words clicking instantaneously. There are more written by the same person to the side of this first book, so he quickly filters through the ones he had read before, trying to find one that he hasn’t yet laid eyes on.

One by one his fingers skip past, each touch gliding gently on the books, each grip so light as if they would so easily crumble away with the writings within, until Yuri does finally stop on one.

The side binding is similar to the rest, a lovely leather cover with a silver rim covering the ends of the book. The same initials of “V.N” in gold cursive, a signature of all of the High Wizard’s published works.

Strangely, it is much lighter, seemingly spanning only half the normal length of the other books at best. Blinking, Yuri flips the book from front to back, bewildered. There were no title to the book either, no name to this work, just an empty cover with the signature gold cursive.

Victor Nikiforov has never once published a titleless book. In fact, the man had announced nothing about a new release, nothing about an untitled mystery.

Contrary its’ blank covers, the inside are full of promising words and diagrams, but Yuri can’t make heads or tails of the bulk of information at a glance. Yuri has no doubt that these are brand new ideas never published before. The innocent book in his hand is a complete enigma until Yuri actually does settle down and take a look at its’ contents.

Yuri’s interest burns.

“It’s ready!”

“Oh!” Yuri exclaims. He turns around just in time to see a sturdy bag plopping down with a slight thud on the counter. The attendant helpfully weighs all his goods with the scale to the side to prove it is exactly what he ordered.

“Is this alright with you?” She asks.

The rocks inside have flakes of red glow, the fire element singing gently in its dormant state. Yuri touches one can feel the energy clearly behind them, and it’s more than acceptable. These are concentrated and stable than most of its kind he has seen, even if it has been a few years since he has last touched such a good sample.

Yuri nods, content. He produces the untitled book onto the counter. “That’s alright. And this book too, please.”

“Oh, this book…” She gathers herself for a moment before beaming even brighter than the wall lamps in the shop with a clap. “Someone’s finally buying your secretive little book!”

Uneasiness comes creeping back again. Silently, subtly. It’s as if a rock had fallen into the pit of his stomach when he realizes the identity of the cloaked stranger at that statement.

“So it looks like.” The person pulls back on his hood, revealing a shapely face with that same platinum hair with the cobalt eyes. The man smiles as if pulling off his disguise is the most natural thing to do in a situation like this.

It’s Victor Nikiforov, the High Wizard and apparently the king of unexpectations.

“Er… Uh. H-Hello.” Yuri says.

The man smiles, enthusiastically waving with the end of his sleeve flopping helplessly along with the motion.“Hello again, Yuri! We meet again!”

Yuri’s about done with the whole of this city, he really is. His heart can’t handle one surprise after another in rapid succession, nor can he handle the feeling of non-consistency.

Most of all, he finds that he can’t handle how much he’s reacting to living legend standing before his eyes, in the flesh, so positively sure that he had probably watched him as he geeked out over his works for the past couple of minutes. Silently looking at Yuri pull the weirdest grin he knows he can’t stop from forming when he studies the wizard’s work.

He had been told many times he does that. By multiple different people.

Yuri gives a stiff smile, one foot ready to go out the door. But he can’t. He’s stuck, hands full with dealing with himself.

“Let’s have a talk, you and I.” Victor winks.

Yuri can’t bring himself to argue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it took 3 agonizing weeks to update, im sorry orz. chapter was incredibly hard to write. i couldnt give up on the actual story but i sure as hell can give up in this blurb here. who even reads this lmao.
> 
> so ok look i have a plan for this story, right? i take an idea, put too much embarrassing effort into it, and then self destruct in the author's notes each time like this. it's foolproof. 
> 
> ie. i have no idea what to put here.


	3. The God On A Pedestal

Yuri is having a hard time keeping up with a very energetic Victor as they move through the crowds in the main street, but mostly with Yuri awkwardly being dragged along. The other man has a hand loosely locked to Yuri’s wrist the moment they stepped out of the magic shop, leading Yuri to who-knows-where for lunch. Despite the hood covering his face, Yuri sees that the man is smiling from the small windows he has from the fluttering cloth, but he’s not too sure what for. He even hears a pleased humming coming out of him.

All of this, and Yuri’s insides buzzes with the sort excitement that makes him lightheaded.

Victor picks the main roads where people are ever present. Yuri is only too aware that he looks like he’s being dragged by a walking black blanket to an onlooker, and they are sticking out like a sore thumb. There would surely be a bigger commotion if they knew who was in the cloak. He catches a few curious stares, and a child pointing his finger to the weird scene but no one came forward to confront them. Thankfully so.

He is at least glad that Victor had asked permission to grab hold of Yuri’s wrist, with the leather glove on him is acting as a barrier between otherwise direct skin contact. Yuri swears to himself that this is to fix what he had messed up the day before. The event kept repeating itself in his mind last night, and without Makkachin around, he had trouble falling asleep.

The boy had met yesterday, Yuri Plisetsky, had said some things that made Yuri pause. No matter how planned the whole thing was, he could not deny the joy on the man’s face when he had saw Makkachin, and how incredibly thankful he must have felt. He thought how turning down all those rewards, as needlessly extravagant as it was, was akin to brushing off Victor’s gratitude, and he felt immediately guilty. So he lets himself be led off somewhere, even if he’s aware it might be potentially dangerous.

Even if things do go south, the sword on him was always at the ready if Yuri needs to protect himself. Not that he prefers to, and especially not against this person. He would very much like to see where the giddy excitement leads him. His lips can’t help but curl upwards at what’s happening.

Yuri decides he can trust him a little, it wouldn’t hurt.

Meanwhile Yuri reminds himself to put on a strong outward personality. It will be an extremely difficult task, and he’s sure it will crumble, but he isn’t going to just throw in the towel without trying.

“Where are we going?” Yuri asks as they turn yet another corner. The tip of his toes are careful not to trip themselves over any uneven rocks in the pavement.

“To a cafe called Ruveria’s, Yuri!” Victor says, resuming with peppy bounces in his step. “It’s nearby, and it has great food. Have you been there yet?”

  
Yuri blinks, his own name sounding foreign to his own ears, along with the loud thumping of his heart.

“I was actually there yesterday.” He says, but immediately came a flinch from the hand wrapped gently around his wrist. His mind scrambles. “Oh, th-their pork chops was really good? I probably ate them too fast though, I would love to have them again!”

“Oh? Then let me treat you to it! Order as much as you want!” The man says.

Yuri interprets that as another expression of gratitude. He nods this time, the unwelcome guilt bubbling back again.

Yuri wonders if Makkachin is doing well. Is it happy, warm and fed? Has it had a good brushing since he last time he saw it? Does Makkachin miss him? Would they meet again? Was Victor sad that it had not been around for a month?

For the past month or so, he thought so. Vaguely he remembers an interview published long ago when he had been a child that Victor Nikiforov had started to keep a pet dog. There had been no pictures showing the dog, only texts stating that it was a poodle. So, Yuri asked his parents if he could get one as well. And they did. And he named it Vicchan after the legend.

The man himself doesn't need to know that, though.

The road now unfolded into a scenery that Yuri finally recognizes from yesterday. It’s the same road with the same sparseness in traffic, and to the side is the entrance to the same alleyway he had gotten completely lost in. He grimaces, recalling how wrecked he was with panic in that horrible place the day before.

In fact, the whole of yesterday was a mess. He absentmindedly stares to the hand on his wrist, and he remembers how the same right hand had flinched back when Victor reached out to a panic wrecked Yuri. It’s strange how he remembers that, and not the majority of everything else in that room.

“I’m sorry about yesterday.” He ends up muttering, not expecting the other to pick up on those words.

But Victor does.

“About what?” Victor ducks his head a little, allowing Yuri to glimpse into those blue eyes searching his face for answers.

He looks away instead. “...Turning down on your offers like that. I… You were only trying to express your thanks. It was rude of me. Sorry.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “You were closed off in a room, and you stood in front of the most powerful man and woman in the whole of this kingdom while I pushed ridiculous rewards onto you. You aren’t at fault for being nervous.” Victor’s laugh does a terrific job at easing tensions in the air. “It’s quite normal see people panic in there. I’ve seen plenty throughout the years.”

The assurance works, and Yuri feels slightly more confident even if he still believes he had made a joke out of himself back there. He struggles to say something, but fails. Yuri hates how he always can’t find the right words.

Their steps finally stop in front of their destination. Ruveria's looks as inviting as it had been yesterday. The little chalkboard menu outside has been changed to feature strawberry shortcake this time. The mere thought of pork chops sounded more appealing in his mind however, so he dismissed the idea of having the cake.

“Shall we head in, then?” The man smiles as he finally releases the gentle grip on Yuri’s wrist, his steps casually and lightly floating past the entrance.

“Ah, right. Okay.”

Yuri follows after Victor, watching as the other talk with one of the waiters, still covered in his cloak. The waiter is unflappable, showing no signs of nervousness or suspicions, politely smiling away while listening to the hushed request of the surely very famous man. Yuri watches from behind Victor as the waiter nods with a close ear leaning towards Victor for a good few moments before straightening up.

The waiter is steadfast, and Victor doesn’t falter in his steps when they reach a stair of what Yuri had deemed to be for employees only. As he goes up he sees the cafe seats more filled up and hears more chatter than yesterday, but nobody seems to bat an eye to him or the cloaked individual. It’s disconcerting, just a little. Probably another one of those cultural thing, he figures.

This is similar to one of those restaurants back home where a person could put a reservation for a private room, and even his family inn offers the same service. It’s usually an expensive option for dining, but this seems par for the course for someone of Victor’s status. Victor might even ask for the same service if he was in Higashi, and Yuri is highly doubtful he would settle for anything less, nowhere near the level of frugal Yuri is.

While the stairs goes further up, Yuri doesn’t see what lies beyond the second floor as they exit on the 2nd. The party of three emerges into a corridor with a few doors on both sides, with the end leading outside to the open air balcony. The waiter opens one of the door to let both Yuri and Victor in with an elite manner of grace which wasn’t anywhere to be seen yesterday when he had been on the receiving end of the service here.

Only when they do settle inside the room does Victor practically rip away the cloak he had on in a single motion, revealing a dress shirt and a more casual looking everyday coat. The black, overbearing clothing is draped across the back of a chair that Victor settles right into. Yuri pries his own cloak off and slowly settles into his seat as well, taking off his gloves as well.

Here he is now, seated in front of the most respected person in the whole of the kingdom, a living god in the realm of magic, with an enclosed room being the icing on the proverbial cake. He must be doing well, since he hasn’t caved into his own weak mental mind and left yet.

Looking at Victor proved impossible still, forcing Yuri’s gaze to be directed anywhere but his face.

“S-so, how is Makkachin?” Yuri fires his question immediately, finding the need to end any awkward silence once their waiter has done taking their orders. Focus zeroing too much on the movement of his own body, his mind feels like it’s hiccuping, trying to stitch any piece of composure together.

  
The lips on Victor curves upwards with joy. “Great! Makkachin’s back at home and just wouldn’t leave my side. Getting out of the house wasn’t easy this morning. I’d stay in today, but work came first.”

Yuri repeatedly darts his eyes upwards. They quickly snap back into the safety zone of his hands.

“Makkachin really missed you.” Yuri says. “Sometimes it just couldn’t stop crying no matter what I tried.”

“I can’t possibly thank you enough for bringing Makkachin back in good health,” Victor says in such a thankful tone that sounds almost desperate. “Was Makkachin good, other than the crying?”

“B-better than good! Amazingly cute and smart, even!” Yuri feels Victor beaming. “I could have gotten lost a few times here and there, or even gotten hurt if not for Makkachin. It’s one of the best companion I’ve had on the road.”

Peeking upwards, Yuri sees a strange expression flashing across the other’s face. A finger folds under his chin, his brows furrowed as if contemplating something. “I’ve heard some stories, but the roads weren’t safe after all?”

Memories of one particularly dangerous encounter he had met on the road flashed through his mind like a succession of images. Yuri rubs his thumb perhaps too obviously at remembering some parts, visions of injured fellow fighters more profound than the threat in mind. Fortunately no one had been fatally wounded that day, and the wyrm, the threat, was dealt with. Makkachin had stayed away with the other unarmed civilians, and it had been Yuri who killed it off with one fatal strike to its throat.

“Mercenaries were being hired left and right to guard caravans, which was how I’ve gotten here so quickly. In fact, I had to get rid of a wyrm along with the town militia the other day.”

“A wyrm!?” The exclamation catches Yuri off guard and he nearly doubles over in his chair. Victor sighs heavily. “I should catch up on the reports the moment I get back.”

Wasn’t the High Wizard’s duty only to protect the King and Queen? The position should have no business with the workings of the kingdom. But Yuri’s no nobility nor is he any high ranking socialite, so the question is snuffed out like a light.

However, the sigh deeply rooted with exasperation caught his attention. He had expected Victor to ooze charisma, to show off his knowledge in magic, to be sweeping Yuri off his feet with his charm, but not this. Slowly does he dare himself to look upwards, away from the safe view of his hands to the face framed by the silver hair. Instead of meeting those captivating blue eyes like he anticipated, he instead finds lines of exhaustion piling on Victor’s face, leading to a pair of burdened eyes with dampened luster.

Victor Nikiforov, age 27, the living legend of magitek and the elite guard to the rulers of one of the greatest kingdom in the world, looks tired. Being just an arm’s reach away, it’s hard not to notice, and harder for Yuri to simply brush it off.

The more he looks, the more worried he feels. Eyes darting around the room, Yuri scrambles to find anything that he can talk about. Magic is out of the question, since it might draw the conversation back to work. He could talk about the dog again, but while it does help to have something in common that they both love, it’s probably not good to express how much he misses it.

Then he remembers a hint Phichit, his best friend, dropped on him years ago when he was back in the academy, still studying magic. Phichit was the most social person he knew of, making connections left and right as if it was as natural as breathing. _“What if a conversation gets stuck? Sometimes, you’ve just got to offer them to ask a question about you!”_

Yuri swallows, deciding to just go for it. If it works, Yuri will seriously have to consider contacting his friend for a meet-up to jokingly revere him as a god.

“I-I’ve probably read all about your interviews. It’s hard not to, being an avid follower of your works and all.” He admits. Best to get that out of the way, but he has a hunch the other man already full well knows. “B-but er, anything you want to know about me?”

Victor blinks, carefully picking his question. “Since you’re offering… Where did you come traveling from?”

Yuri shuts his falling jaw. Inside his mind, he sings a thousand word of thanks to Phichit, and he’s not sure if that’s enough. He stows the thought of annoying his friend to the back of his mind. Regardless, relief washes over him when Victor is smiles as his attention appeared to be drawn away from his clouded worries.

“F-from my home back in Higashi, a town far from the capital. My family runs an inn with hot springs, and it’s quite popular with the occasional travellers.”

“Wow! Family inn? Hot springs? Amazing!” Victor exclaims, eyes twinkling. “I hear it does wonders for the skin, more so than the skin care products we have here.” He smoothes his hand over his own arms, as if his skin still needs more perfection than this to drive all the women in the kingdom into a jealous rage. “Is it true that it’s a public bathhouse? Is it as good as people claim it to be?”

“Yes, and yes actually. Have you ever soaked in one?” Yuri happily asks. He’s happy to indulge anyone about his family inn anytime, especially to Victor. Fueled with pride, the words just gushes out so easily.

“Never.” Victor admits, leaning in with interest. “I don’t get to go on vacations often.”

“You are always welcomed to try it someday! My door’s open for you. I can show you how we do it. It’s very relaxing.” Yuri suggests.

Yuri watches Victor entertain the idea in his head, expecting some sort of reply. But Victor instead stares at Yuri with an odd wide eyed look with pink dusting on his cheeks, a hand over his mouth. Yuri is confused at why that would be the case, then suddenly terror strikes into his heart. The implications he is unintentionally suggesting sears his mind.

He sounded like he wanted to see Victor naked, amongst other things!

Internally screaming, he waves his hand in all directions, trying to take the words back, but they slap loudly and latch on to cover his face as a last resort. The stinging gets flooded out by the sheer shame that’s spreading all the way to his ears. “I-I mean! Not like that! There’s the whole etiquette stuff, right? People should at least try that if they are visiting Higashi! It’s part of the touristing!”

There isn’t a response.

“Please. Please forget anything I said.” He says, voice muffled by his hand, just loud enough for the other to hear.

“Pft.”

  
That… wasn’t a word. Flinching, Yuri widens a pair of finger open for his eyes out of curiosity at the sound.

Then the most amazing event so far on his travels unfolds as he watches Victor burst out laughing, so wonderfully sincere and deep that it’s relieving the coiled up nervousness in Yuri’s stomach. He nearly gasps in disbelief. It’s a small victory. He had made Victor laugh. He had caused the great wizard to laugh heartily.

He smiles uncontrollably beneath his stubborn hands. Even if he had self-destructed in front of this particular individual. Yet, he feels oddly good about this.

Victor wheezes audibly as he tries to catch his breath. “Oh, Yuri. You’re so…” Victor is trying his hardest amidst the laughter. “So…”

The hands on Yuri’s face lowers a bit as he tunes into the words, cupping the lower half of his face instead. Blue orbs peering back into his own captures his attention, as if searching for some sort of information that can only be seen on the inside.

“Say, Yuri. Are you si-”

A series of knocking on the door interrupts them before Yuri hears the rest of the sentence. The conversation frustratingly pops like a bubble, leaving Yuri in the dark about what Victor wants to say. Both with their full attention to the door, they snap their heads to face it. Yuri does it mostly because he’s not sure what to do, being pulled out of one situation into another.

Slipping so effortlessly back into his grace, Victor is the one who invites the waiter and their food in. In his chair Yuri’s drooling is so uncontrollably from smelling the aroma alone, it nearly leaks out of the corner of his lips. Like an awkward sitting duck, he simply waits, unsure of the etiquette. Yuri only knows that the pork chop already has a wide open space reserved in his stomach before the food is even down on his side, but he leaves his hands off the utensils until the time seemed appropriate.

The other appetizing aroma turns out to be Victor’s tenderloin beef, expertly cooked and decorated on a platter.

And as quickly as the waiter came in, he’s out of the room again, leaving two occupants and their relatively simple meal within the four walls.

“Nevermind what I said. Well, let’s eat, shall we?” Victor smiles. It’s a tired smile still, but somehow it’s the most relaxed so far.

Yuri nods, finding the courage to finally smile openly. He lets Victor take the first bite, watching the food be sliced and slowly go up pale pink lips. He cuts his own slice half-heartedly in a daze..

Yuri can’t tell what Victor had wanted to say, but he’s too buzzed out with immense feelings that aren’t… horrifying. Not terrible, not telling him to run for the hills. It’s not a perfectly stress free conversation, but it’s acceptable. Victor feels alright.

He takes a bite of his own food, and all of that stress is immediately melted. The food is too, too good!

Victor smiles back, taking his meal at his own pace.

“So, Yuri!” I want to know you more. Tell me about your adventures!”

Yuri gladly entertains him. After all, he’s been accepting all sorts adventuring requests for some time now.

\----

  
They are walking down another populated road again, this time more carefree than before. Yuri doesn’t feel like sneaking away.

“Consider it!” Victor says as he walks onwards, chirping. “I actually need a personal assistant, and you sound perfect for the job! ”

Yuri laughs off the idea. “No, I really can’t. I’m very flattered, but I don’t plan on staying here for the long term. I’m supposed to start going home in 2 more days.”

“Oh.” Victor says flatly.

It’s a fact that memories aren’t always reliable and neither are hunches. Despite that, the castle still remains as enormous as it had felt in his memories. Yuri strolls right past the gate along with the cloaked Victor who immediately drops his hood once within the vicinity of the castle guards. The trip here from the cafe had been direct and quiet, unfortunately devoid of any sightseeing. There had been however, the occasional discussion about the intricacies of magic formulas on everyday appliances.

Yuri feels bubbly.

Slowing to a stop together, Victor turns around to face Yuri with that graceful smile in place. “You didn’t have to walk me back home, Yuri. But thank you.”

Right, home. This exaggeration of a castle is technically Victor’s house, whose true living quarters lay at the furthest back of the castle along with the rulers. Victor’s practically royalty here both in status and fame. There isn’t a thing here that he would lack.

“I just… wanted to. I enjoyed talking to you. A lot.” Yuri scratches his cheek in embarrassment. “W-well then, goodbye, Victor.”

Truthfully, he doesn’t want to say goodbye. He wishes he could say something else that promised they would meet again. His heart sinks. The same scenario from yesterday is repeating itself.

Yuri stands in his spot awkwardly twiddling his thumbs for an acknowledgement that never comes. He almost says something, but Victor himself is staring at the ground with balled fists for a moment, deep in thought. Then suddenly his fists are grabbing something that’s outstretched for Yuri to take. “Take this,” he simply says.

Palms open and raised, he lets Victor drop an item into his receiving hands. It’s an extremely detailed piece of emblem made of actual silver, it’s white sheen gradually spreading into pink at the edges. Yuri knows what this is, and he can’t believe it. It’s a sign of trust given material form, the weight of the meaning far, far outweighing it’s worth in metal. Owning this basically meant that Yuri is free to walk straight up to meet and call for Victor whenever he wished in person.

Yuri does not take this lightly. Implications weighing too heavily, Vcitor has effectively cemented his feet where he stands.

He registers the feeling of warm fingers gently closes his hand around the emblem, encasing around them further.

“If. You need anything at all. Anything I can help you with in person, show this to anyone of the guards on duty here.” The words seem difficult to say. Victor steps backwards, his eyes meeting Yuri who loses himself further in that tint of blue. “See you.”

“S-see you.” Yuri finds himself replying. The hands on his lifts as Victor walks away to his duties, along with the strange warmth that's now inside of him. He stays rooted in his spot until the quickened footsteps fades into silence.

7 hours of dazed shock came and went. Yuri couldn’t focus on anything but the heavy emblem now nestled in his pocket. Only when he settles on his bed after his shower does Yuri Katsuki at last implodes mentally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> noyohoho.
> 
> i'm always super anxious when it comes to feedbacks. all the comments and kudos has been super encouraging, thank you VERY MUCH 
> 
> also i should probably look thorugh this before posting but i'm off to bed good niiiiiigh


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